“‘Mark his majestic fabric! He’s a temple Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine; His soul’s the deity that lodges there; Nor is the pile unworthy of the God.’” Washington was fully awake to the fearful responsibilities now devolving upon him. General Gage held his head-quarters in Boston, sustained by a squadron of light horse and several companies of infantry and artillery. The bulk of his army had taken its stand on Bunker’s Hill, where the troops were busy in strengthening their works, so as to render the position impregnable. Another strong party was on the neck of land between Boston and Roxbury. A deep intrenchment ran across the neck, which was bristling with cannon, and with the bayonets of the regular troops who guarded all the approaches. A fleet of British war ships was in the harbor. The American lines extended entirely around Boston and Charleston, from Mystic river to Dorchester. The distance was about twelve miles. Plain farmers, many of them in their working attire, had seized their muskets, and, in the month of June so important to all their agricultural interests, had abandoned their fields to engage in the revolting employments of war. They were gathering from Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and New Hampshire. From the far-away banks of the Potomac George Washington had come, to place himself at the head of the sons of New England, struggling in the defence of the dearest of all earthly rights. On the morning of the 3d of July Washington took formal command of the army. It was a solemn hour. There was no boasting; no exultation. The troops were drawn up, upon Cambridge Common. An immense crowd of spectators had assembled from the country all around. Washington, as he rode upon the ground, was accompanied by General Lee and a numerous suite. He took his stand under the shade of a venerable elm, probably one of the primeval forest when he reviewed those heroic men, who had no love for war, whose hearts were yearning for their peaceful homes, but who were ready to sacrifice life itself rather than surrender their infant country to the despotism of its ruthless oppressor. The British army in Boston amounted to eleven thousand five hundred men. They were in the highest state of discipline, under able and experienced generals, and abundantly supplied with all the best arms, ammunition, and material of war which Europe could afford. Washington had under his command, fit for duty, only fourteen thousand five hundred men, with no general organization, no supply of stores or clothing, no military chest, and but wretchedly supplied with arms and ammunition.[89] It is one of the marvels of history that this motley assembly of farmers and mechanics was not swept away, before the British regulars, like withered leaves before autumnal gales.